


Aubade (a love song sung at dawn)

by wendlaswound



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, Word prompt, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9491153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendlaswound/pseuds/wendlaswound
Summary: "a soft serenade from the lips of a golden boy, lit by the rising sun, sung across crumpled sheets for the light of his life, sleeping soundly"





	

            Once it was Ronan and Adam, that’s all it ever was. The sun would not shine bright when Adam was not there, dim and heavy even as Ronan shaded his eyes. Somehow everything was louder, messier, chaotic, even if it was just the soft humming of the wind, or the pitter-patter of rain on the roof, or the crackle of the earth as it shifted ever so slightly beneath his feet.

            Ronan was a dreamer, but reality without Adam was only ever a nightmare, even if only in the most mundane way.

            But when Adam was there, the sun was warm. The tickle of the breeze was an invitation rather than an intrusion. His taste was richer, he felt surer of his movements, less shaky, less corruptive. There was an order to his chaos.

            Ronan didn’t care that someday, maybe soon, maybe not, the sun would explode and take all of the earth with it, as long as Adam was by his side until the end.

            And so they walked together, through fields, down streets, exploring through forests, hand in hand, their souls fueled by each other’s presence. Sometimes there were words, sometimes laughter, sometimes it was only silence tugging at their lips. But it was always soft. Always warm. Always theirs and only theirs, no matter who they decided to share their hearts or their home with.

            Time stretched in Cabeswater, and with both of them so close to it, to each other, they often felt like they had already grown old together a dozen times. And then a timid touch, a new way of saying the other’s name, a reopened wound, brought them back. But only after it had stretched them out, too.

            It may have been because of that, then, why they were both always tired. But never of each other. Ronan’s dreams and Adam nightmares, and occasionally the opposite, settled when they slept side by side, they rarely woke with a start of what they had seen in their unconscious state. They were able to sleep with little disruption, because their minds were settled in next to each other, both of their restless souls finally at rest.

            And Ronan was happy.

            With Adam he felt things he hadn’t thought were real. The fog cleared in his mind so he could store away these feelings and memories and _life_ and they were never clouded in nightmares or misery. At moments, like gazing at Adam from across the sheets in the early morning, his arms curled up around his chest, his face soft and peaceful, Ronan couldn’t breathe, his chest tight with what-he-didn’t-know and a sharp _rightness_ seeping into his nerves.

            Ronan was always asleep, or faking it, his eyes lightly closed, when Adam woke up. He always let Adam wake him up.

            And it was on a morning like this, only a hint of light coming through the window, staining the room a dull blue, when Ronan was gazing at Adam, watching the light slowly creep in and outline his sleeping body in a halo, when Ronan began to hum.

            It was soft, timid, controlled, things Ronan very rarely was but things he often tried to be when it came to Adam. It was a steady rhythm, flowing smoothly. Ronan didn’t know why it was this song or where he heard it, but he wasn’t thinking at that moment. And then he sung the words softly, something lilting, something his mother would have sang to him when he was crying as a child. He thought of the first time him and Adam had kissed, the first time Adam had taken his hand, the first time Ronan realized that Adam was the only light he needed. Who needed the sun if it was going to explode, anyway. Adam was forever.

            Ronan sang from his soul that was tied to Adam’s, singing of every minute Ronan had missed Adam and wished he was there, every moment that felt wrong without him, and every moment that felt right when he was there.

            Ronan didn’t know what he was doing, but he didn’t have to.

            Adam was sleeping, and Ronan was singing to him. A morning lullaby. A thank you. An I love you. An aubade.

            The room was still dark when Ronan’s song finished and his voice gave out, but the vibrant orange on the horizon clung around Adam, making him glow as if he were the sun.

            Ronan smiled softly. He curled up next to Adam so that their foreheads were touching, and Ronan fell back asleep.

            When he woke him up, the room was so bright that all Ronan’s tired eyes could see was Adam.


End file.
